Warm Solutions
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: Tumblr Whouffle Prompt: The TARDIS heating system breaks, and it gets so cold, they have to cuddle, or you know, other stuff... ;)


She thought, for a moment, that maybe she was imagining it, but when her teeth began to clatter roughly against one another she knew – something was definitely off with the temperature in the Tardis. Eying the space above her, she groaned thinking maybe it was another one of the machine's tricks, trying to piss her off by removing the heating from her room while she tried ready herself for bed.

"Don't know whether to be madder at the machine for playing the games, or the man who thinks they're a bonding experience," she muttered, voice shaky as she gathered the red comforter off her bed to throw over her shoulders.

Striding out of the room, she made her way through the halls, body now shivering slightly against the cold and when she reached the console, she found the Doctor tinkering away just underneath, purple coat buttoned against his body tightly, hands adorned with tip-less gloves as he growled in frustration and banged a wrench into something metal before dropping it and sucking at his thumb.

"I'm surprised you haven't stapled yourself to her," Clara mocked, a smile instant on her face when he glanced up and frowned at her. "While you're down here, mind asking her to turn up the heating? My room's like an ice cube."

"The whole Tardis is like an ice cube," he responded on a grunt, hands gesturing towards the open panel as his mouth opened in anger and then clamped shut as his fingers curled into fists. "Checked the coolants, checked the engines, checked the gauges, checked the wiring, checked everything I could think to check and then double checked it in case I'd actually forgotten to check – because there are quite a few things to check and one often forgets if one doesn't have a list from which to… check things off," he ended, shoulders slumped. "There's no reason, _no mechanical reason_, for the heating system to be malfunctioning."

Clara glared at the Tardis and gave it a quick nod, "Oh, there's a reason."

He turned, eyebrows rising as he waited.

"She hates me, thinks she can freeze me right off," pointing a finger, she stated, "Hasn't been giving you any trouble until I finally agreed to spend the occasional night; until you finally ordered her to build me a room. And now she's switching about hallways, creating holographic toilet seats, _moving my bedroom_!"

Now he smiled, shaking his head, "There's a difference between pranks and this," he watched her as she turned to look at him, aggravation puckering her face. "This is a threat to both of our physical well beings. The Tardis wouldn't deliberately put us both in danger."

"Danger," Clara repeated, straightening. "It's just a bit cold."

"Growing colder by the hour," he corrected, words slipping out slowly, almost menacingly.

"She's trying to kill me," Clara declared, moving forward until the Doctor caught her and held her back, arms wrapped around the red comforter, "You're trying to kill me, this is madness!"

He didn't respond, he simply held her and she struggled a moment before turning to look at the odd way he was staring up at the ceiling, before he caught her eye. "What?"

"What are you doing?" Clara asked.

Shrugging, he responded, voice cracking, "Warming up?"

"You're hugging me… to warm up?" Clara inquired, one eyebrow rising slightly as he nodded.

"It's really quite cold," he tilted his head to tell her. "Maybe, if I just… for a minute," his voice wavered as he searched a moment with his eyes before finding the edges of the bulk of thick fabric surrounding her and pulled it open, tucking himself inside and moving around her quickly so that he held the edges of the comforter in front of her. Clara remained still, feeling him inch closer to her back, sighing as he settled his arms over her shoulders and hugged the comforter to her. "So much better," he whispered, relieved.

"Doctor," Clara called quietly, head turning slightly to find his chin just beside her temple. "We can't just stand here like this."

Shaking his head, he laughed, "How silly of me, of course not," and he dropped quickly, taking her to the ground with him as he leaned up next to the opening in the underside of the console and tugged her securely to his chest. "You're like a furnace," he breathed.

She felt like a furnace. Clara's face had gone red and she clutched her hands just underneath her breasts, unsure of what she should do – certainly he'd understand how intimate this was. Certainly… she thought to herself just before realizing he would have no clue. First order of business: get warm. Check. Second? Enjoy the warmth. Turning slightly, she half grinned when he smirked back at her, eyebrows rising happily.

"Are you warmer?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"Uh," she managed, "Yeah, I guess, yeah."

"Fantastic," he laughed, giving the comforter a quick fluff before wrapping his arms at her chest and taking a long breath and then he uttered, "In hindsight, this may have been a bad decision."

Now she grinned, leaning her head back against him and tilting her forehead into his chin, "No taking it back now." She felt him gulp and chuckled, "You're quite warm yourself, d'you know that?"

"Quite," he replied plainly.

Something suddenly began to hum from underneath them and Clara sighed, nodding, "She's turned the heat back on."

He was nodding, quickly, but didn't budge.

Clara glanced up at him and saw him peek down at her, lips pressed tightly together. "Suppose there's no harm in relaxing while she warms up."

"Suppose not," he croaked.

She remained still, waiting until his sudden tension eased away and she asked him, like she sometimes did, if he dreamed. Because she was thinking about how well she would sleep when she finally headed to her room. He laughed calmly and they fell into a casual conversation that ended with her drifted off and the Doctor describing his home, finishing with a nudge of his chin to her head before he glanced down.

"Clara?"

She murmured and he shifted, gripping the comforter and lifting her carefully off the ground. He walked through the corridors until he found the bedroom door and stepped inside, depositing her in her bed before swinging the comforter off his shoulders and dropping it down lightly over her. With a small laugh, he tucked her in and smiled.

Pressing a light kiss to her temple, he sighed, "Dream well, Clara Oswald."


End file.
